Monday, 10 February 2014
The red-haired man
The storm stretched its first thunder and lightning near the ninth hour.
The redhead man, desperate, ran between the stones that seemed to move by their own volition .
He crossed the wide entrance of the sacred building and terrified by the fragility that seemed to come from the columns that supported the broad roof, approached the group of holy men, and as none of them paid any attention to him, decided to put in the hands of a servant the goatskin bag he carried in his belt.
He retraced his steps, and ran, soaked in seconds by the terrible downpour, came to the potter's land where a lone olive tree with gnarled and almost dead branches rose.
Anxiety gripped his throat tighter than the rustic rope, he was a 'qanaim', jealous for the rights of the Perpetual Being .
His fall into Eternity was an infinite second, but from the very poor view of time, did not last long.
The thoughts of human beings, restricted by all the flaws that they boast, created a direct journey to the realm of shadows but ...
Who can really know? Who can be aware of the infinite length of a rope in the no-time ?
There might have been room for repentance and forgiveness. They say that Wisdom is also exceedingly Merciful.
Or, maybe we did not understand the plot.
Meanwhile, in the holy place, while some columns collapsed to the strike of the quake, and the long veil covering the Mystery was torn from the top, the astonished eyes of a servant watched with amazement the thirty pieces of silver in the goatskin bag left by the mysterious red-haired man.
The music is a fragment of "Storm" by Antonio Vivaldi.
© 2014 Od Liam.